CHAPTER 57
Efficiency
The next day dawned cold and stark, the fluorescent lights of the complex buzzing with an artificial energy that mocked the slow, heavy sunrise. Lauren had not slept, spending the remaining hours of the night staring at the ceiling, the sound of Finn’s final, desperate plea—do not let his definition of great erase your own—ringing in her ears.
She stood now in the Armory, a cavernous, steel-lined space deep within the compound, feeling the absolute, cold reality of her decision. The air was thick with the scent of gun oil and recycled oxygen.
Ryle was already there, leaning against a weapons locker, his silhouette immense and rigid. He wore standard black mission fatigues, the heavy vest and harness already fitted. He looked exactly as he had for the past seventy-
